POETRY SOMEDAY: G.M. HOPKINS: Haven’t done Poetry Wednesday in a while. But I’ve been reading Hopkins’s juvenilia, and this poem struck me. I think it’s poignant and mysterious. Spring and Death I had a dream. A wondrous thing:It seem’d an evening in the Spring:–A little sickness in the airFrom too much fragrance everywhere: —As I walk’d a stilly wood,Sudden, Death before me stood:In a hollow lush and damp,He seem’d a dismal murky stampOn the flowers that were seenHis charnelhouse-grate ribs... Read more